


Everyone Gets Drunk (Island Life of Mutual Clubbing)

by Unicoranglais



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Alternate Scenario, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Clubbing, Comedy, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunkenness, Gen, Misunderstandings, OT5, Partying, Rave, Spoilers, Time Loop, what if
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unicoranglais/pseuds/Unicoranglais
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When things don't go quite as planned in the virtual reality you're trapped in, things can get really weird, really fast. And when alcohol's brought into matters... well, it's all downhill from there. </p><p>(Basically - SDR2 with drunks, glitches, and time loops. Various combos of Koizumi/Souda/Mioda/Tanaka/Saionji shipped, with heavy emphasis on the five-way.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Trouble In Rebootland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I apologise! A lot!!! Aaaand then I reboot the fic.

The first time Koizumi died, it was fine.

Sure, there was a lot of swearing when she was executed along with everyone else, but that was only because Hinata–stuffing–up–the–first–trial–so–badly–that–everyone–voted–for–him – _“because–he–sucks–at–mysteries”_ wasn’t part of the plan. Since they were all inside a simulation, people dying could be fixed easily. All Hagakure figured he had to do was pull out the plug, and he could reset as many times as he liked.

It was a stupid idea – or as Togami would have said, an awfully _Hagakure_ idea – but hey, it worked. The machine rebooted, wiped everyone’s minds again on startup, and the whole experience began anew. Everyone now had a second chance, and things even went a little differently.

Koizumi died a second time, because Monobear invested in these unfortunate salt–water piranha Monobeasts that ate most of the cast before the virus could actually explain what was going on. This was also fine. Hagakure just reset again,

_(they ran out of time in the trial)_

and again,

_(drove a dinghy off the edge of the world)_

and again,

_(a dinosaur ate the whole cast, it’s a long story)_

and again,

_(they refused to vote, just to see what’d happen)_

and all in all, the fortune teller got pretty desensitized to them dying. It had been horrible to watch at first, but it happened so often that in just a few months he was starting to treat the group as less people, and more like they were just characters in some game he was playing. They had a limited amount of health, sure, but an infinite number of lives – and if Hagakure didn't like this particular playthrough for whatever reason, he could start over at any time.

His boss had told him not to keep pulling the plug on them, _of course_. When Byakyua Not–Actually–My–Boss–But–Really–Bossy–Anyway Togami had been shown Hagakure’s latest achievement, there had been... well, a lot of arm–waving, something long–winded about people becoming aware of what was going on because of memory overload, and something equally long–winded about the program glitching and crashing. Naturally, Hagakure had a far better explanation: Byakuya Better–Than–Everyone–Else Togami was just a giant party pooper. Who _wouldn’t_ have wanted a better outcome than ‘everyone dies except for the computer AI’?

(Byakuya No–Fun–Allowed Togami, apparently.)

And besides – as long as he kept ‘working’ on the simulation, Hagakure had the world’s easiest job. Between cups of coffee and fascinating articles in _Conspiracy Weekly_ , he tweaked teeny–tiny things like building locations, Hinata’s dreams (and _okay_ , he did come up with an entire case motive this one time, and that didn’t go very well, but the alien invasion had sounded like an awfully good idea at the time). As usual, there wasn’t much logic to his actions – just this semi–demented hope that he’d magically get an ending where despite the virus’s attempts, the full group of Super–High–School–Level Despairs would at least survive to the end of the simulation.

It wasn’t like it was an impossible ending to get, either. On the forty–something–th reset, a group of five survivors – Sonia, Souda, Kuzuryuu, Owari, and Hinata – had actually managed to _corner_ Junko, all becoming close to hopeful in the process.  The forty–something–plus–one–th reset was where he was at now, and tapping away at his keyboard Hagakure had a good feeling about it. This time round, if he was careful about what he tweaked, then he was guaranteed to have an ending with at least five people alive and hopeful.

_Now, how to work in a sixth–?_

After a truly ponderous ten seconds, he moved the lodge three metres to the right. Yes, this made the building clip straight through a tree; several trees, to be honest. However, the _inherent aesthetic appeal of nature_ (as well as a giant awkward trunk in the middle of the secret murder passage) should encourage some extra hope. Hagakure puffed out his chest a little, sipped his latte, pressed the Enter key, swore, crawled under the desk, banged his head, plugged the thing in, banged his head again, settled back into his chair, puffed out his chest, sipped his latte–

**_ERROR 291: MEMORY WIPE LIMIT REACHED: STUDENT #12__ **

**_FURTHER WIPES MAY RESULT IN DAMAGE__ **

**_USE PREVIOUS SAVE? (Y/N)__ **

–squinted.

_Death... **limit**...?_

As it turned out, the forty–something–th time Koizumi had died, _it wasn’t fine at all._ Hagakure must have sat there for an age in front of that message, until his coffee was stone cold and his eyes were starting to ache.

What would Togami have done here? Would he have risked the brain damage? Or would he have simply put her into the sim, remembering everything up to her death from the past loop, and hoped that it wouldn't result in a complete cast wipe all over again? Hagakure figures that the heir wouldn't have ended up in this mess in the first place, but if he did, he'd have picked the first one. After so many frustrating attempts, and knowing now that there was a limited number of goes remaining... Yes, Togami would have risked the brain damage for a run where it would be likely for at least six people to survive. Maybe more.

But what was the _right_ thing to do? Was it really Hagakure's business to mentally scar someone, someone who had already been a complete despairing wreck when they entered the simulation, just so he could save the others? Saving five people wasn't completely guaranteed – what if Hagakure didn't save anyone with this attempt? What if the damage to Koizumi's mind was bad enough to kill her, make her forget how to breathe?

Was he okay with sentencing one person to death or despair,  just to keep a likely chance–?

_No._

No, he wasn't. Togami would have been perfectly fine with losing someone, but Hagakure – he wasn't _that_ smart, wasn't _that_ cold, wasn't _that_ much of an expletive deleted. And besides, if this didn't work out – he could just pull out the plug, and then could continue with the run Togami would have chosen. It was really a win–win situation, since he could reset the game any time he liked.

Hagakure smiled, and pressed the Y key.

The machine hummed in response.

And this is how the whole disaster started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TL;DR: The good news is that it's back! The bad news is that it's getting rebooted. 
> 
> You can see the apology + what really happened to this fic here: http://everyonegetsdrunk.tumblr.com/post/137074670639/everyone-gets-drunk-apology-post


	2. 1,1: SETUP_FAIL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I apologize some more, and no-one gets drunk (but everyone is very confused).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T

When Koizumi woke up the first time, to the sound of a slammed door, and sat up at a desk in a strange classroom she didn’t remember walking into, her first thought wasn't _Why am I here?,_ or _Where am I?,_ or even _Why does that girl's hair have that many colours, and since when was that allowed in a classroom?_ It should have been something along those lines; she knew that much, because she'd already been in a situation just like this. The near–abandoned classroom – the oak double–doors – Mioda making a bee–line straight from the door to her, her voice high with nerves– saying the same thing she always said _–_ _this isn’t the first time–_

"H–hey! Person–chan! It's, like, the first day of school, right?!? Sooo, uh – Ibuki's not anything other than fashionably late, right?!? Also, are they okay? Th–they don't look so good. Did they get punished for being too early? Too late?!?"

**_I died._ **

Yes, _that_ had been her first thought, and now it flickered again – barely a second, but enough of a spark to set off the real dynamite. For a full minute, the photographer feigned unconsciousness as best she could, slumping over her desk with her head cradled in her hands. Not the easiest thing to pull off, since Mioda was now shaking her and wailing at the top of her lungs, but Koizumi did her best.

“Thingy–chan, wake up! Ibuki may be a lady–killer, but she’s not trained to deal with actual corpses! And she’s not entirely sure she’s got the voice for a big, loud ‘NOOOOOOOOO’ this early in the day, and...”

Koizumi tuned out somewhere around that stage, lost in thought. She could have sworn she’d died, hit in the back of the head by... well, whoever had secretly allied with Kuzuryuu for whatever reason. Or plotted to off both of them, and make it seem as though they’d killed each other – if someone other than herself and that godawful, no–morals–whatsoever gangster had played the game, that was entirely possible. The point was, she was pretty sure she had died somewhere in the middle of her fight with the guy, but _here she was_ , in a place that somehow made even less sense than if she’d woken up reborn as some kind of freaky dragon–meets–Pomeranian mess.

_Unless..._

Was this supposed to be her personal version of heaven? _This?_ Being trapped forever in some sick loop? Reliving nothing but the very worst weeks of her life, which would only end when she did? If anything, this was the sort of thing she’d have imagined to find in hell, right before the deadly recorder chorus. Trying to regain her composure, she took a breath, tried to put a positive spin on the whole situation, but even then – the whole thing still felt less like heaven than it was purgatory.

_What the hell did I do to deserve this?_

Or, or, and here nice thoughts became outright lies – maybe she was just imagining it all. Maybe this was all just some kind of weird coincidence, maybe there was some kind of twin thing happening here, or a– a prank, _of course,_ that was all it was. Mioda was playing the most unfunny joke in existence, and soon that would be confirmed _,_ because there was simply no way everyone else could have been roped into something so cruel. For one thing, even the stranger people in her class had morals (mostly, anyway).

For another, _two of them were already dead._

“C’mon, Thingy–chan! They’re awake, riiiight? Don’t make Ibuki bust out the super–duper–good hearing to bust your super–duper–bad acting!”

The words were familiar enough to send shivers down her spine, but Koizumi set her jaw. Fear was funnelled into determination; nothing and no–one was going to scare her, not after all she’d been through. She grappled for a hold on her sanity, searching for a reason to believe that Mioda was playing a horrible trick on her – _last time, I remember walking into the classroom before I collapsed_ – there it was. There was a difference after all! This was just some dumb joke – and to end it, Koizumi just needed to say that she had realized this.

“You know, this really isn’t fu–”

 _Right on cue_ , the door creaked open, and Tsumiki rushed over to the two of them. “Oh–! U–um... P–please step aside, wh–whoever you are! I–I have experience, I promise, it’s g–g–going to be okay!”

Even though the nurse was clearly upset on top of the usual nerves, she was still somehow getting her lines perfect, word–for–word. Whether she’d been bribed or threatened into participating, the photographer didn’t know, and didn’t particularly care. As unsettling as this was, it was still all fake. Had to be.

Koizumi scowled, trying to break the script with a flinch back when Tsumiki reached for her. Sadly, all that got her was a thoroughly off–topic tangent from the guitarist: “Oh no! Thingy–chan’s a zombie, _and_ one of those poor people who get censored when they swear?!? Hey Doc’, is there anything Ibuki can do?”

At least Koizumi didn’t remember that particular rant from last time, providing further evidence that this wasn’t real. “That’s not what I was gonna say, Mioda! I just meant, this isn’t fu– _fuuuuuuuu–!_ ”

“What’s all this?”

 _He_ appeared, somehow messing with the photographer’s head even worse than _he’d_ managed last time – there was definitely a last time, there could be no other explanation. You see, Koizumi had last seen him covered in blood, ugly and bright against the white suit. There had been several gaping holes in his sizable stomach. His glasses had been shattered, since he’d landed on them when he... _you know._ And he definitely hadn’t been standing, let alone speaking – in spotless clothes, just to add insult to injury.

“Ibuki found a censored swearing zombie girl! With ESP, because she somehow totally got Ibuki’s name bang on the money! But – um, Ibuki’s new best friend, Doc, is gonna fix it!”

"U–um... E–excuse me, but my name i–isn't Doc... th–that’s not even a proper insult..."

“Meeeeeaning, Ibuki doesn’t have ESP! Ibuki sure is glad that totally important issue got cleared up!”

Byakuya Togami looked about the room, and let out the sort of derisive snort that only Byakuya Togami was capable of. “...Does anyone have a more reasonable explanation?”

“Ohohoho. I certainly have a more _attractive_ explanation!” Togami’s murderer  sidled in right behind him, red–faced, comb raking frantically at the pompadour, _also supposed to be dead,_ and it was all Koizumi could do to not scream at the heir to watch out. The only thing that kept her from doing so was the idea of telling him about the danger later, preferably when Hanamura wasn’t there to hear it. “You see, these three luscious ladies were experimenting a little, make that a lot, and now–”

“I thought I asked for a more _reasonable_ explanation.” Togami folded his arms, then decided to adjust his pristine–condition glasses with one finger. “However, before I press you... There should be introductions. I am Byakuya Togami, the Super–High–School–Level Heir. Now, who are you?”

They gave their names and titles, one by one, in the exact order they did last time round. Mioda was even interrupted halfway through her introduction by Sonia showing up, as dazed and puzzled as everyone else. It was all so similar, all so familiar, all making so little sense. Two of their group should have been – no, definitely _were_ dead. Now they weren’t.

It was all so comforting, and it all made Koizumi sick to the stomach.

Whilst the heir demanded each person’s arrival story (“for lack of a better term”), and the others were all suitably confused by the weird, coincidental blackouts they’d all had, the photographer hunched over her desk. If everything went to script, and she wasn’t able to stop the deaths, and it was just going to go round and round, then this wasn’t heaven, it wasn’t limbo, or even purgatory. No – the situation might just be a special kind of hell. If that was the case, then Koizumi would almost have rather died forever in the bath–house, and never felt a thing afterwards.

Almost. There was something about living, you see, even if it was awful and boring and unchangeab–

“Next!” Going off the silence, she guessed that meant ‘Next’ was supposed to be her. The photographer lifted her head from the desk, and when she found Togami glaring her way, brought herself to attention as best she could. He sniffed in indignance. For now, she bit back a grumpy remark, and waited for him to continue. “Well? How did _you_ arrive here?”

There was something in the italics she didn’t like at all, the same thing she’d never liked about Togami. “Exactly like everyone else,” she snapped, then took a breath and tried again. “Uh – like everyone else who already spoke, anyway.”

“See?!? That was toooootallyyyy ESP! _Freaky!_ Hey, can Mathingy–chan tell Ibuki whether or not Ibuki's gonna win the lottery?”

 “It’s Mahiru Koizumi. Not... you know. That thing you just called me.”

_How the hell did you not die first?_

Well, maybe she _would_ go first this time. Everyone else was staying on–script for the most part, but Mioda seemed to be trying to push it in another direction, regardless of whether she knew what she was doing. If Monobear was behind everything, Koizumi doubted he'd appreciate anyone trying to mess up the looping/act on visions of the future/change the script/interfere with whatever the hell was going on.

“Whaaaa?!? Doesn’t Mathingy–chan get it? _Everything’s_ better with thingies! It’s cute and casual. Liiiiike, Teruthingy–chan, Mikathingy–chan, Byakuyathingy–cha– naw, too long.” Mioda nudged an elbow into Togami’s side, grinning from ear to ear. “Heeeey, how about Ibuki makes a super–high–school–level exception for Mister–Super–High–School–Level–Hot–Stuff, Togams?”

The heir’s eyes narrowed, lip curling. This was a sure sign that Mioda was about to land herself in deep trouble, much like she'd done last time round. However, Koizumi wasn't particularly worried. Not that she didn't care at all about Mioda's feelings, of course. It was just that if every event of the day was to repeat (and so far they had), then he'd never get to begin his rant, let alone finish it.

Hanamura beamed. “Ohohoho! So, you’d name me after my _thingy?_ Do remind me to show it to you later.”

The look that crossed Togami’s features could have made a pride of starving lions think twice. He took a deep breath, opened his mouth, Koizumi braced automatically just in case– _creak_ , and he whirled to face the door.

"Ah, hello." Komaeda cocked his head to one side, looking the heir up and down before he cautiously entered the room, closing the door behind him. "Excuse my awful interruption, but... Well. Did I hear someone mentioning hop– I mean, Super–High–School–Levels?"

"Indeed," Togami said. "We _are_ Super–High–School–Levels. I, for instance, am Byakuya Togami. Super–School–Level–Heir," he elaborated, and Komaeda took that as a sign to come closer to the group, his eyes bright with interest. "And you are?"

"Oh – nothing, really. I'm just the Super–High–School–Level Lucky  Student, Nagito Komaeda."

 _Just like last time_ , some small part of Koizumi snarked, and the rest of her brain cringed in its general direction. There was no way things could seriously be looping – this was just a really, really well–organized prank. Right? _Right_ ; it had to be faked all the way, down to the dead coming back to life. It was pretty disrespectful to think that Togami and Hanamura would do such a horrible thing, of course, but then again, it was also pretty disrespectful to fake people's deaths, or just substitute in twins or clones or – o r – o  r,  well, whatever they had done to make her think they were dead, then show up as though nothing had happened at all.

"I'm the Super–High–School–Level Lucky Student. It's not much of a talent, but... Well, at least it's landed me here! This may be a little much to ask, but I do hope I’ll get to know every last one of you!" He was being nice again, and the others lapped it up. Koizumi had bought it the first time; but now, she could only stare as Komaeda shook Togami’s hand with just a little too much enthusiasm, the picture of starstruck innocence. Now she _knew,_ in hindsight his behaviour was so obviously messed up. Why on Earth or under it hadn’t she realized what a horrible person he was, until it was way too late, and Togami was dead and Komaeda–

_–what the hell?_

The photographer shook her head, trying desperately to maintain her sanity. Right there, Little Miss Logical had been slipping, starting to accept that the past was somehow completely genuine, and the present was somehow completely genuine too. Dangerous stuff. But as much as Koizumi _wanted_ to tell everyone off a second time for playing this awful prank on her, as hard as she tried...

Hanamura was standing metres from her. _Happy._ Togami was right there by his side, and the fact that he was scowling right now didn’t matter. Koizumi was happy for him; and that, more or less, was why she couldn’t speak up, call heaven a fake, and ask for the horrible prank to end early. If the dead were now alive somehow – herself quite possibly included amongst them, came the nasty reminder – then Koizumi wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe that very, very badly.

_And... Someone’ll reveal it was all a dumb joke in a few minutes, anyway._

“Oh! I do hope I am not late! As a princess, I aim to be perfectly, pridefully punctual!”

_Soon as everyone else shows up, they’ll realize that they can’t make that dumb bunny–thing play along._

“Awww, shucks. I was hopin’ to kick off a streak of constantly being late for class, but the teacher’s not even here... Anyone wanna fight? My head’s killing me, so it should be a fair match.”

_So, I’d better enjoy this while it lasts._

The door opened and closed once, twice, three times, and Koizumi counted off people as though they were some measure of time. After Sonia and Owari came Tanaka, Pekoyama, Saionji, Souda, Kuzuryuu, Nidai, and Nanami. All were right on cue, and things managed to stay on script, no matter _how_ many times Mioda made some dumb comment that Koizumi was sure hadn’t been there last time.

_Maybe I just wasn’t paying much attention to her... So, the last person. Any second now–_

The door opened. That was expected.

Hinata entered. That was expected, too.

He closed the door. Again, completely predictable.

The _issue_ – the great, glaring, obvious, script–breaking issue that made jaws drop and breaths catch in throats – was in–between those last two things. And it was utterly inexcusable. As though some kind of weird, fantasy, universe had just decided to wander in and park itself in the room, an entire new cast filed in behind Hinata – no, _floated_ , or possibly _slid._ Koizumi had no idea what to make of the scene: Fourteen people, dressed in various shades of red, white, and black, followed him in a perfect line, all without moving their legs. They were all standing bolt upright, arms spread as though they had all caught the same enormous fish, and were all simultaneously trying to take credit for it. Some seemed to be carrying rusty, duct–taped, utterly improvised weapons, whilst others  ould have given a dead Pharaoh a run for his money in terms of bandages.

Considering all this, the fact that not one of them spoke or smiled was probably the most normal part.

“S–so, uh”, Hinata began, leading this weird lot of... awfully familiar people, come to think of it... closer to his classmates. The line of Weirdly Dressed People Not In The Script wrapped about when he remembered to close the door. It reminded Koizumi of a long string of balloons, or less flatteringly – a mob of militant, particularly ugly ducklings. “As I was saying, I guess left my uniform at ho– huh?” He stopped there, staring at the people in the room who _weren’t_ dressed as members of a violent apocalyptic cult. “Wha–? You guys... aren't you... you’re kind of...”

_Not strange? Not dressed to kill – or at least, we don’t look like we’re going to kill people? Okay to see in a dark alleyway?_

“Is _that_ supposed to be me?” Togami growled, stalking over to a particularly heavy–built cultist. His clothes didn’t fit him at all, and that was putting things politely. Then again, the photographer suspected that most people were really, really polite to anyone carrying five knives taped to a broom handle, even if that person had forgotten to remove the blood–caked brush.

Togami was the exception. “What a lousy impersonation.”

Koizumi blinked, wondering what on earth had given him such a strange idea. Beyond the weight, the two teens didn’t look all that similar. One was much less well–kept than the other... okay, so there _was_ admittedly similarities in their faces... and body shapes... and their heights... and...

_oh dear god **no**_

Mioda was the next to rush over to the line, glancing up it before jabbing an accusing finger into a female cultist's stomach. Since there was no reaction, she decided to start ranting instead. “W–whoaaaa! This one here’s totally ‘jacking Ibuki’s style! Only with, like, bear ears instead of oni horns, and oh wow, is this all bought? I–is that a brand name?! A–and _that?!?_ Awwww, man – there's no originality anywhere! Everyone's being ripped off! If it didn’t look _totally_ sucky, Ibuki would deeeeeeefinitely need to have a word with her trusty lawyer best friends. Especially their big, muscle–y bouncer best friends, heh.”

They all went over after that, frowning and chattering and telling Hinata not to turn, since every time he did, the line swung with him and it was kind of a hazard, and also _how come you lost two balloons/ducklings/whatever on the way here, was that an accident or did you just not like them?_ Koizumi wandered down the line, feeling more than a little stunned at how well everyone seemed to be taking the appearance of a second set of themselves.

Well, _nearly_ everyone. “D–did human cloning r–r–really become successful–? I–if so... Wh–who needs a n–n–nurse nowdays? J–just... transplant e–everything, and then cut all the b–bad things out...”

Souda grinned, and for once Koizumi was pretty thankful that he'd interrupted. “Nawwww, I reckon they’re all really androids! I mean, just check out mine!" He gestured to a figure that was about his height, and dressed head to toe in an ugly mishmash of various balding faux furs, haphazardly glued onto rusty metal plates. The end result was some sort of derelict cyborg, which between the Wolverine–ripoff claws bolted onto the back of one hand and the machine gun clumsily mounted on the other, might have been creepy. It wasn't often Koizumi thought well of shoddy aesthetics, but she was thankful that the helmet looked like a badly drawn cartoon hedgehog.

"Sonar senses, a microphone for super hearing, a radio antenna, those might even be artificial gills – ooooh _,_ a jet pack? Is that a jet pack? That's a jet pack! Awww man, you're so awesome!" Here, the mechanic slapped the suit's back, and remained painfully unaware of how Tsumiki flinched at the loud noise. "I can’t wait to take you apart!"

"I don't think even an idiot like you'll have to fuckin' _try_ to get yours apart, if mine's any indication", Kuzuryuu grumbled, stalking past Souda to sulk at the back of the classroom. Rightfully so – as much as the photographer didn't like him, there _was_ a rather embarrassing mess of shed black and white fluff all through his hair.

_At least that catgirl–only–with–a–bull–and–a–guy–instead–of–a–cat–and–a–girl **thing** is just a costume. _

_A well–made, vaguely creepy costume._

“Hm... So, we all happen to have long–lost twins, now revealed to us? It is just as so many prophecies predicted – two potent beings, one serving the greatest and most chaotic of evils, whilst the other is pledged to only the brightest of days! And now, having met, us who have been gifted with the services of our chosen Four Element–Of–Choice Devas Of Word–Of–Choice must study the forbidden arts together, bringing our various alignments into the spiralling chaos of spiritual harmony? Truly, the balance of the Earth has been restored!”

Tanaka finally looked away from the staring match he'd been bound to lose, and finally lowered his voice to something resembling regular speaking volume. "Now, as a first step towards the coming of _true chaos_... I recommend that the disastrous bear onesie be removed from your person, and you don a more harmonious attire. It is difficult to gaze upon you, dressed like that."

Koizumi would have expected someone to have been impaled, beheaded, exploded, or any number of other nasty things by now. But even though everything was such a long way off–script, nothing bad had happened. Sure, Kuzuryuu swore and ranted from the safety of the desks about how whoever responsible was getting kidnapped and sent overseas. And Owari threatened to punch her counterpart for daring to wear a backwards cap with the usual outfit (“Too much effort! You’re _nothin’_ like me!”). Neither of them followed through, however, and if the clones/cyborgs/whatever were angry or offended, they didn't show it.

It was peaceful, in a weird, unsettling sort of way; the same category as the quiet before the storm. Not that it was going to _stay_ peaceful for long, given what Koizumi knew was scripted, but just for now... maybe she should just forget all of her questions, and enjoy it. Who cared that the dead were alive? Who cared whether or not it was a horrible prank? No–one was going to die over any of it, not before the game had started properly. She had plenty of time still, ri-

"H-howwa  _howwa!_ Wh-what's gowwin' on?!?"

And there was no time left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very late, because I decided I didn't just want it to be good - I wanted it to be the first part of the Great Late Spooner Bonanza, a challenge I made up for myself. Basically, I'm going to show off just how prolific I can be, and all my readers are going to see something out of it - from the Pokeumans crew that's been supporting me for four years on dA, to the oh-so-patient SDR2 people over here. 
> 
> You can read about the event (and even influence what I'm going to be writing during the week) at http://spoonerdog.tumblr.com/post/138604682244/come-get-a-speedfic#post-notes . (If you don't have a Tumblr, comment or review to get your suggestion in!)


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